


You Fill My Lungs With Sweetness

by orphan_account



Series: One-shots [14]
Category: Shameless (US)
Genre: (by that i mean super assholeish), M/M, Supernatural AU - Freeform, blood tw, canon typical slurs, gets super angsty super quick, its in its world but dean/sam don't exist so, kind of, milkovich sibling bond in this is pretty canon, not all tagged cos of suspense and shit, reunited and it feels so goood, warning that the characters start acting pretty canon by the end, which is sad
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-05-23
Updated: 2017-10-03
Packaged: 2018-11-04 01:12:24
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 2
Words: 8,705
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10980246
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: ‘Nice to have you back, Milkovich,’ Ian said, locking his gun into place.‘Sad to know you never left, Gallagher.’





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Tumblr: cantfuckinbelievethis 
> 
> Sort of set in Supernatural's world, but without any of the characters from Supernatural?? You'll see what I mean 
> 
> Also please let me know if I missed any trigger tags, because I am very tired so I may have missed some! (But I don't think I did)

Rolling into Chicago right around dawn, Mickey heaved out a sigh as he flicked the last of his cigarette out the window. The sun was just coming above the horizon, painting it a blazing orange and making him squint as he made his way towards the Southside. His stomach growled, reminding him that he’d really need to pick something up before he got home.   
  
    Home.   
  
    He wasn’t really used to that word. Hasn’t been back in six years, but turns out the old shit heap you grow up in is still home — no matter how far you go.   
  
    Despite the fact that it was only just six am, he turned up the radio and allowed himself to get his mind settled with the music from a mixtape he was given ten years ago. He knew he’d definitely need to get settled before he gets into the stupid shit that was ahead. If it were up to him, he never would’ve left Massachusetts, but when his sister called him in a panic, telling him that some scary shit was rising in Chicago, it didn’t leave him much choice. From the moment he’d heard her voice, he knew it was time to get out the ol’ salt and holy water, and come home. His sister didn’t scare easy, let alone ask for his help, so there he was.   
  
    By the time he reached the place, he was starving and not in a very good mood. He was always pretty shitty in general, but being up this early and starting this up again despite swearing off it all those years ago meant that this was his usual mood with the volume turned up.   
  
    As he climbed out of his car, he scanned the street for any danger, noticing a few people already heading out to work, still totally oblivious to what was happening. Sniffing to himself, he threw his duffle bag over his shoulder and headed up the pathway leading to the porch. Out the corner of his eye, he saw a movement coming from the window. He paused in his steps, before figuring it must just be Mandy or something. When he reached the front door, he rapped his knuckles against it a few times before waiting. He frowned when there was no answer, checking his phone to see that he _had_ in fact messaged Mandy telling her when he’d be in. So where the fuck was she?   
  
    Suddenly, a figure came flying out from behind him, knocking him into the door and pinning him there. Totally unprepared, he struggled against the heavy weight at his back, but found himself at a loss. Well, there goes helping Mandy at all when he’s already being killed by a fucking demon in almost broad fucking daylight.   
  
    ‘Really, Mick?’ a familiar voice breathed huskily in his ear. ‘Don’t remember you being so easy to pin down.’   
  
    Mickey turned his head to the side from where it was pressed against the door to peek out at the owner of the voice from the corner of his eye. ‘Hey, Gallagher. Don’t remember you being so fuckin’ tall.’   
  
    ‘Grew up,’ Ian said easily before pulling away, finally releasing Mickey so he could turn around. ‘I’m a big boy now.’   
  
    Mickey eyed him for a moment, finally being able to appreciate the full view of a twenty-two year old Ian Gallagher. _Got that right_ , he thought to himself. Puberty sure treated him right. Last time he saw him, he was a gangly sixteen year old, not really sure how to move his overgrown limbs properly yet. Now he was a grown man, with fuckin’ stubble. Mickey smirked a little at that. Gallagher always had been eager to prove he was older than he actually was.   
  
    ‘Where’s my shit head of a sister, then?’ Mickey asked, swinging his fallen duffle back over his shoulder and letting himself into the Gallagher house. ‘How come she’s not here waiting with open arms and a tray of cookies?’   
  
    ‘Dunno whether living in Massachusetts for the past six years has made you forget, but Mandy ain’t that type of girl. Besides, she’s out on patrol with Lip — asked me to wait for you.’ Ian gestured for Mickey to drop his duffle before heading over to the kitchen table, which was piled high with guns.   
  
    ‘Since when do we do fuckin’ patrols? You sure they aren’t just hooking up behind some dumpster somewhere?’ Mickey asked, dropping down at the kitchen table and watching as Ian cleaned and reassembled the guns.   
  
    Ian scoffed, heading for the fridge and getting a beer out, tossing it to Mickey. ‘That shit’s been over for a while now — they stopped doing it a few years ago and are just friends now. Besides, we’ve been doing patrols for a few years now, since it got bad, you’ve just been away and didn’t know.’   
  
    ‘You gonna give me more shit for fucking off now, too?’ Mickey sighed.   
  
    The day he left, his family had gone off at him, saying that he couldn’t just quit hunting and if he did, he shouldn’t bother coming back. He left, accepting that and never even looking into coming back home, until he got Mandy’s call. Truth be told, there was only one thing he had really missed about home.   
  
    Ian met his eyes for a moment before looking back down at the gun in his hands. ‘Think I already said all I needed to say.’   
  
    ‘Good.’ Mickey sniffed, trying his best not to think about any of that.   
  
    ‘Nice to have you back, Milkovich,’ Ian said, locking his gun into place.   
  
    ‘Sad to know you never left, Gallagher.’ Mickey sighed, standing up. ‘Now if you’ll excuse me, I’m gonna go catch some shuteye. Prod me awake when you need me.’   
  
    ‘Yeah, because that worked out so well last time,’ he heard Ian mutter to himself, but chose to ignore it. ‘You can take my room for now — it’s Lip’s old room.’   
  
    With that, Mickey climbed up the stairs and opened the folding door to see a big, queen sized bed all for himself. He let out a deep sigh of relief, chucking his duffle in the corner and flopping down onto it. The day and a half it took to drive into Chicago had been a nightmare. He had barely slept except when he had to stop in his car because he was about to drive off the road. Mickey had grown accustomed to sleeping in an actual bed, and it was difficult doing anything else.   
  
    Now as he kicked his shoes off and curled up onto Ian’s bed, he rested his face in the pillow, took in the familiar and comforting scent, before quickly drifting off. 

* * *

‘Wow, look at you all grown up,’ a voice teased from the door frame.   
  
    Mickey snorted awake, turning over to see Fiona standing there. She looked a little older, but still just as maternal as always. After his father had been killed by demons he was hunting and the Milkovich kids went all Lord of the Flies, Fiona was the only constant in their lives who had settled them down and helped them out. Seeing her again, it really was like coming home to family. Ian was obviously family too…but that was a whole other can of worms. She leant against the door frame, crossing her arms and smiling down at him.   
  
    ‘Ugh. How long did I even get to sleep?’ he grunted.   
  
    ‘Three hours,’ Fiona said casually, as if she hadn’t just woken him up with only three fucking hours of sleep.   
  
    ‘Are you fuckin’ kidding me?’ Mickey grumbled, sitting up and rubbing at his eyes. ‘What the fuck do you think you’re doin’ waking me up with only three hours in me?’   
  
    Fiona uncrossed her arms and took a few steps forward. ‘You used to last on much less. Don’t tell me you’ve gone soft, Mickey Milkovich.’   
  
    ‘Fuck off with your _soft_ bullshit,’ Mickey snorted, climbing off the bed. ‘Is breakfast ready or is the table still being used as an NRA convention stall?’   
  
    ‘It’s ready,’ Fiona sighed. ‘Be prepared, though — everyone’s there and they all have a lot of questions for you.’   
  
    Fiona turned around, shutting the folding door behind her and heading downstairs. Mickey huffed out a small, bitter laugh, and rubbed at his eyes. He was exhausted, starving, and was about to be bombarded by the Gallagher clan and his fuckin’ siblings. Right then, he was really tempted to go back to Massachusetts, just running away again. If only he wasn’t needed by these stupid people he called family, he would definitely be out that window and gone before they even thought to check.   
  
    ‘Fuck me,’ Mickey groaned before changing into sweatpants and a shirt, and heading downstairs.   
  
    ‘Look who’s finally up!’ Lip greeted, his usual smug smile still in place after all these goddamn years.   
  
    At that, everyone looked up to see Mickey entering the kitchen. Debbie was the first to have a reaction, lighting up and running over to give him a hug. She was pretty much his height now, which was kind of annoying, but it was nice to see her grown up.   
  
    ‘Mickey!’ She grinned. ‘We missed you!’   
  
    ‘Speak for yourself,’ Lip said through a mouthful of eggs.   
  
    Mickey flipped him off over Debbie’s shoulder. When she finally let him go, he dropped down into the only empty seat and met Ian’s eyes for a moment before they flickered over to Mandy. She had a blank expression, but nodded slightly before continuing to eat her breakfast. Meanwhile, Iggy just dropped his fork on his plate before storming out the back door, slamming the door behind him. They all sat in awkward silence for a moment, no one really knowing what to say at Iggy’s reaction.   
  
    ‘He’s just—’   
  
    Mickey raised a hand, stopping Fiona mid-sentence. ‘Don’t worry about it. Good to be home.’   
  
    She nodded slightly, starting to eat again, along with everyone else.   
  
    He took a bite of his toast before looking up to see Iggy’s shadow still out the window in the backyard. After a few seconds of deliberation, he stood, stopping everyone’s conversations short as he headed outside to confront his bitch ass brother. Out the corner of his eye, he saw Mandy’s mouth open, probably to protest, but he just shut the back door behind him and went down to where his brother was smoking beside the pool.   
  
    ‘Alright — you get one punch,’ Mickey said, rubbing his hands together in the freezing cold morning air. When Iggy merely glared at him, he continued, ‘I know you’re being bitchy because I left, but I’m back to help now and we need to get along. So, punch me.’   
  
    ‘I’m not pissed because you left,’ Iggy said lowly, stamping his cigarette out beneath his foot. He took a step toward his brother, clearly letting the anger build up inside him. ‘I’m pissed because you stopped hunting. You could’ve gone to Jerk Off, Massachusetts, and still hunted, and I would’ve been fine. You. Stopped. Hunting. And that’s bullshit, Mick.’   
  
    ‘Oh fuck you, you self-righteous prick,’ Mickey snapped. ‘You think hunting is some kind of noble shit? It’s _not_. We’re all doing it for some kind of sick revenge. It’s never about the innocent people, and it never will be. All we’re doing is running around, killing things to try and make up for what happened to Mom!’   
  
    Just as he expected, a split second after he mentioned their mother, Iggy’s fist met his face and he immediately let it take him down. His shoulder killed as he hit the icy ground, but he stayed down. If he tried to get back up, he knew it would turn into a real fight, but he meant what he said. Iggy got one punch, and then they were done.   
  
    ‘Iggy!’   
  
    Mickey almost rolled his eyes as Ian strode out of the house, almost jogging down the stairs and over to them. He pulled Iggy a few steps away from Mickey, and Mickey finally stood, spitting out the blood gathered in his mouth into the snow.   
    ‘You realise we need Mickey, right?’ Ian scolded slightly, but still threw on a joking voice to try and make it light. ‘Can’t go around damaging him before we get the job done.’   
  
    ‘I still think we can do it _without_ him,’ Iggy said pointedly, eyebrows raising. ‘He’s outta shape, anyway. Useless.’   
  
    ‘Aye, fuck you,’ Mickey snorted. ‘I go to the gym…sometimes.’   
  
    Both Ian and Iggy rolled their eyes at him — Ian with a small grin, Iggy with a glower. With a sigh, Iggy brought out a joint and gestured for them all to get in the van. Mickey smirked slightly and elbowed Ian as he strode past and followed Iggy into the van, Ian shutting the door behind them. As they passed around the joint, Mickey decided it was time to ask a few questions about the task at hand.   
  
    ‘Why do you guys need me, anyway?’ Mickey asked, breathing out some smoke. ‘You’ve lasted without for six years — what’s so different about this demon scum?’   
  
    Iggy and Ian exchanged a look, before Ian nodded for Iggy to go ahead. With a roll of his eyes, Iggy said, ‘This guy’s got a small gang going, with all kinds of different big bads all banded together. Dude’s got vamps, shapeshifters, demons — the whole kit and caboodle. Involved in that…is a few witches, and since you’re the only asshole who did a stupid thing and got involved with Wicca when we were kids, we figured we could use your expertise.’   
  
    Mickey grinned slightly, glancing down at his tattoos. When he had been through that whole witchcraft phase and once his dad died, he had changed his letters to a few different Wiccan symbols. V, the witch who lived next door that only practised good magic, had been impressed…his family and the Gallaghers? Not so much. Lip, especially, since he had been another student of V’s and always wanted to be top shit. That was when they actually got along.   
  
    ‘Bet V and Lip are pretty pissed about that,’ Mickey said smugly.   
  
    ‘V and Kev moved away,’ Iggy explained. ‘Lip’s kinda pissed off, but he also acknowledges that because most of it came to him naturally, he didn’t nearly put in as much work as you did. He knows less.’   
  
    ‘Of course that dick would turn it around to make it that it “came to him naturally”.’ Mickey scoffed.   
  
    ‘Don’t be a bitch about this,’ Iggy joked, seeming to be in a bit better spirits since he got his frustrations out on Mickey’s face, which would be sporting a nice bruise in an hour or so. ‘Be glad someone actually called your stupid ass for help — means you’re not absolutely useless.’   
  
    ‘Wouldn’t be too sure about that,’ Ian snickered. ‘You see the way he just took your punch and fell over? Like watching someone knock over a sack of flour.’   
  
    ‘Fuck you, Gallagher.’ Mickey smirked.   
  
    ‘Alright,’ Iggy sighed. ‘I’m gonna get inside and eat something. You two enjoy the rest of my joint and sucking face.’ Before anyone could punch him, Iggy leapt out of the van and shut the door behind him.   
  
    Mickey clenched his jaw, annoyed at his brother for bringing that up and then ditching them. Silence washed over both Ian and Mickey, but he allowed his eyes to flicker up from the joint in his hand to Ian every so often, not really sure what to say.   
  
    It was no secret that they had fooled around when they were younger. Well, it had been, but that was only for two months before Lip found out, then Fiona, then everyone else. After Terry was killed, and Fiona took the Milkoviches in as part of the family, Ian and Mickey hooked up. It took one punch to his boyfriend’s stupid face for Ian to suspect Mickey, and wake him up with a tyre iron and a promise that if he ever did it again, he’d bash his head in. Mickey didn’t take that too well, and that pretty much ended with them fucking.   
  
    Turned out once wasn’t enough, though, and soon it was happening pretty much a few times every week. Despite it going on for two or so years, it never really turned into anything more than hooking up…at least that’s what Mickey had thought it had meant to Ian, but then Mickey was leaving and a lot of secrets were blurted out. So, yeah, it was pretty awkward.   
  
    ‘Look, I know I can’t—’   
  
    Mickey was quickly cut off by Ian grabbing the joint out of his hands, crushing it on the floor of the van and pretty much jumping him. He crushed his lips against Mickey’s, kissing him recklessly and like he was finally breaking the surface again. Mickey gripped the back of his neck, eagerly kissing back, but then remembering what Ian said before he left.   
  
    Hating himself but knowing he had to say something, he pulled away slightly. ‘Ian, wait, I just wanna say—’ He was cut off again by Ian’s lips insistently shutting him up. He backed off again, continuing to try and talk as Ian started in on his neck now. ‘We should talk—’   
  
    ‘Don’t feel like talkin’,’ Ian huffed as he pulled away. He looked down at Mickey with a hard expression, yet his eyes seemed to be soft, pleading. ‘Feel like gettin’ back what I had six years ago.’ Before Mickey could say anything, Ian yanked his own shirt off and flung it toward the front of the van. ‘We doin’ this or what?’   
  
    Immediately, pretty much all of his resistance melted away and he quickly nodded. Ian immediately went back into kissing his neck, and Mickey arched into him. He wasn’t really sure how this was going to end, but hell, why not be along for the ride?   
  


* * *

They knew any minute now it’d be time to start figuring out a plan and give Mickey the real rundown on what they were facing, but for now, lying next to each other in the van seemed good enough. They passed a smoke back and forth, staring up at the van’s ceiling and pretending they weren’t practically freezing to death. They’d put their pants back on, but it was too much effort after that much physical activity to put their shirts back on.   
  
    ‘You meet anyone in Massachusetts?’ Ian asked while he passed Mickey the cigarette.   
  
    For once there was no anger or accusation in his voice, like there had been when they were kids, he seemed merely curious. Despite his past feelings about Ian’s jealousy issues, suddenly he wished Ian had asked him with some hint that he cared if Mickey had fucked someone else or not. The fact that there wasn’t made Mickey feel anxious and angry that maybe there _had_ been someone else’s in Ian’s life before Mickey came back. Hell, maybe he still had a boyfriend, but decided to fuck Mickey anyway.   
  
    Deciding that he didn’t really want to go down that road anyway, he decided to take Ian’s question in another direction. ‘People did live there, so yeah.’ He could see Ian’s frustration, but carried on anyway before Ian could correct him. ‘Met this one hunter, Svetlana. Man, she reminded me of a Russian Mandy, she was such a hard ass. She stayed with me a little while with her kid, but they ended up taking off in the middle of the night when I was sleepin’. Never knew why.’   
  
    ‘Maybe there was something coming?’ Ian suggested, voice turning quiet and soft.   
  
    ‘Nah, nothing turned up. If there had been, a little heads up would’ve been nice, you know?’ Mickey sniffed. ‘Only people I really hung around with…Only people I miss.’   
  
    ‘You miss anyone from home while you were there?’ Ian prompted, and Mickey almost rolled his eyes. Ian was so obvious.   
  
    ‘Not many people,’ Mickey tried to be nonchalant about it as he blowed out a puff of smoke. ‘Definitely not Lip.’ Ian let out a snort, but clearly waited for Mickey to continue. ‘To be honest, there was really only—’   
  
    ‘Alright, lovebirds,’ Lip interrupted as he slid the van door open with a grin. ‘Time to gather ’round. We got quite a story for you, Mick.’ He patted the side of the van roughly before heading back inside.   
  
    Mickey and Ian exchanged a glance before putting their shirts back on and heading to the house themselves. They entered the kitchen to see everyone gathered around, except Liam, who was watching TV on the couch.   
  
    It felt like sliding into his old role as Mickey sat down and said, ‘Alright, what we got?’   
  
    ‘Okay,’ Debbie began, putting down her notebook that was filled with the gruesome details and quite a few of Carl’s disturbingly realistic sketches. She spun it around to face Mickey and he flipped through it, studying the notes. ‘Started out with a few murders here and there — nothing special or distinct. Then, before she left, V told us the pattern: good witches — Wiccans. They’re killing Wiccans.’   
  
    Mickey let out a harsh exhale. ‘That’s why Kev and V moved.’   
  
    Fiona shrugged. ‘They had kids then. They couldn’t risk it.’   
  
    ‘We find out why they’re doing this?’   
  
    Everyone exchanged a look, making Mickey frown slightly. They all seemed like they were making a group decision about what he should or should not know. It really pissed him off — just because he quit hunting didn’t mean he was a total civilian who should not be privy to certain information. If he was working the case, he deserved to know as much as anyone else. Fortunately, after a moment, it seemed unanimous that he had to know, and Mandy spoke up.   
  
    ‘No,’ Mandy said. ‘We think it may just be a prejudice against Wicca. After all, they have some bad witches in their group, so they don’t hate witches. Just seems to be Wiccans.’   
  
    ‘Ian found them by following them home one night,’ Debbie continued. ‘He was following up…a lead of sorts and found a coven of Wiccans. He was about to go in and question them about whether—’   
  
    ‘You went into a room full of Wiccans alone?’ Mickey interrupted, eyes flickering to Ian. ‘Why would you be that dumb? You couldn’t be sure they were Wiccans — they could’ve been fully fledged witch bitches, and you go in trying to mess with them? What the hell was worth that? What were you even looking for, Gallagher?’   
  
    ‘Does it matter?’ Ian snapped, voice incredulous. ‘Point is I saw they’d all been slaughtered, and some of the gang were standing over them, looking through their stuff. I followed them back to their hideout and saw they had a demon leading them, then came home and told everyone else. Didn’t do anything stupid like try to take them on and I have six more years of hunting over you, so why the fuck are _you_ lecturing _me_ , asshole?’ With a scowl, he slammed the blade he was holding into the table, handle sticking up out of the wood, and stormed upstairs.   
  
    ‘God, you all didn’t bother to take care of the dumb ass while I was away, did you?’ Mickey sighed, rubbing his forehead at the thought of all of those witches being around Ian alone.   
  
    ‘He’s a grown man, and you were gone,’ Carl spoke up from across the table. It was the first time Mickey had heard a peep out of him since he arrived, and his voice was unusually dark. ‘He knows what comes with the job and so do you.’   
  
    The table, for what felt like the millionth time that day, went quiet as tension rose. Mickey clenched his jaw, nose flaring as this kid — this little pipsqueak who he’d taught how to use a butterfly knife — pretty much told him off in front of everyone. Worst part is that the little turd was right. Ian was a grown up, and a hunter at that…Mickey had no reason to try and protect him, or be mad when other’s didn’t.   
  
    ‘Fine,’ Mickey huffed. ‘So what’s the plan then? You know who they are, pretty much what their motive is, what’s happening next?’   
  
    They all exchanged another one of those _goddamn looks_ that was really starting to shit Mickey, but he decided not to say anything about it because Ian was right, after all. He’d split for six years; he couldn’t exactly come back and expect to be running the show or making any of the heavy decisions. He was pretty much there as a Wicca consultant and that’s it. After this, he was going back to fuckin’ Massachusetts where he could be a goddamn mechanic in peace. No more hunter or family or fuckin’ Gallagher drama.   
  
    Finally, Debbie explained, ‘Well, seeing as you know a lot about Wicca and a few covens around here, we thought you could maybe go around to them, explain what is going on and tell them to prepare themselves. Then we could come back here after that and figure out the best course of action, because right now, we don’t know what to do exactly.’   
  
    Mickey thought to himself that maybe they should just figure out how to kill the sons of bitches first and then just go and do that, but he decided to just go with their plan. _Wicca consultant_ , he tried to remind himself.   
  
    ‘Alright, have you got a list or anything?’ Mickey asked. ‘Because I knew a few fuckin’ covens, not all the Wiccans in the whole of fuckin’ Chicago.’   
  
    ‘Yeah, we do,’ Debbie said and handed him the list. ‘Also, Ian’s going with you.’   
  
    ‘Gallagher doesn’t seem too pleased with me right now; are we sure he’s still coming?’   
  
    As if on cue, Ian then strode down the stairs back into the kitchen with a backpack over his shoulder. ‘Alright, let’s go.’   
  
    Mickey nodded to himself, grabbing his bag and following after Ian. ‘Al-fuckin’-right then.’   
  


* * *

They didn’t speak the entire ride to the first coven’s house, or the second, but on the way to the third one on the list, finally Mickey gathered up the balls to say something. Usually he wasn’t the talkative type, but the silence was driving him crazy.   
  
    ‘Look, Ian, I—’ He clenched his jaw, totally expecting an interruption, but when there wasn’t one, he stuttered out, ‘When I said— I didn’t mean to imply that you don’t know what you’re doin’— and I know you’re a fuckin’ grown up, I just— I worry about you, okay?!’   
  
    Despite Mickey’s angry outburst, Ian merely nodded as if he knew exactly what Mickey meant to say. As if he totally understood the way Mickey had meant to say it, even if it came out in the wrong way. ‘I know, Mick. Me too.’   
  
    Mickey’s eyebrows furrowed. ‘You worry about me?’   
  
    From Mickey’s memory, no one had ever worried about him before. He had always been Mickey Milkovich — too tough and scary to be hurt. When he was a kid, he was still grown up and no one had to worry Mickey would ever be in pain. It was strange that Ian Gallagher — who he still sometimes could only see as the freckle-faced puppy with the huge green eyes — was worrying about him.   
  
    ‘Yeah, sure I do. When you first went off on your own to Massachusetts, I was terrified. We know monsters are real, Mick. Didn’t want you to be on your own. Still, doesn’t mean I want to be treated like a child, just like I’m not gonna treat you like a child.’   
  
    Mickey nodded, pulling up to the third house. ‘Yeah, I know. I won’t anymore.’   
  
    Ian nodded too, seeming to hesitate as he looked up at the house. ‘Are you sure you want to do this?’   
  
    Frowning, Mickey asked, ‘What?’   
  
    ‘This — helping us. You could just go back to Massachusetts, be happy and normal and do your fuckin’ apple pie job of a…’   
  
    ‘Mechanic,’ Mickey supplied.   
  
    ‘Mechanic,’ Ian laughed breathlessly as if he almost couldn’t believe it. ‘You don’t need to do this, Mickey.’   
  
    ‘I’m just telling fuckin’ Wiccans to watch their backs, man. What’s the worst that can happen?’ Mickey patted Ian’s shoulder with a grin before climbing out of the car.   
  
    He thought he heard Ian sigh as he followed. Walking up to the door, Mickey felt a small chill go through him. He frowned, looking up at the house that now seemed to loom over him more so than any of the others. Ian was watching him from the corner of his eye as they stood on the porch together, so Mickey quickly shook it off and knocked. There was no answer, so Ian and Mickey exchanged a quick look and nod before Ian picked the lock open.   
  
    Swinging the door open slowly, Mickey stepped into the house, Ian following after him. The house was like any old Southside house — crappy and falling to pieces — and it was pitch black. Mickey frowned as he scanned the house and Ian didn’t move from behind him. Usually when you came into a place, it was take opposite directions and scan for trouble, but Ian wasn’t moving too far from him. Mickey shrugged it off as part of the thing about him losing experience and continued to survey the house.   
  
    ‘Why…’ Mickey began.   
  
    ‘Yeah?’ Ian whispered back.   
  
    ‘Why would a house for a Wiccan coven…Why would they need to black out the windows?’ Mickey asked quietly, salt gun out and a bad feeling spreading through him.   
  
    ‘Good question,’ a terrifyingly familiar voice spoke out from the darkness.   
  
    Mickey and Ian both froze. Mickey felt like ice was running through his veins, but, for some reason, Ian seemed like he was only getting himself ready for what was to come…like he already knew. but that was impossible. The lights flickered on, revealing Mickey’s worst nightmare flanked by a number of different monsters. It was all very obvious to Mickey now that it was all of them against just him and Ian. They were outnumbered, and they were fucking done for.   
  
    ‘Maybe it’s because there are bad things in here.’   
  
    Mickey gritted his teeth against the anxiety pulsing through him and glanced at Ian to see him just glaring. He didn’t look shocked at all. He just looked ready to fight. Mickey knew it wasn’t just because he was a hunter and couldn’t afford to be shocked. After all, anyone would be shocked by this.   
  
    After all, everyone had thought Terry Milkovich was dead.   
  


* * *

No one had time to react before the Gallaghers and remaining Milkoviches jumped pretty much out of nowhere. Mickey stood amongst it all, too stunned to even fight as the Gallaghers proceeded to kill at least half of Terry’s clan. Finally, he snapped out of it as Ian made a beeline towards Terry, throwing himself head first into the fight.   
  
    ‘Been wanting to do this forever!’ Ian practically shouted as he head-butted Terry and they both went down.   
  
    He immediately went after them, feeling nothing but ill whenever Terry and Ian were in close proximity. Even when Terry was alive, he never liked seeing them near each other. Terry had managed to get the upper-hand and was just beating down on Ian, so Mickey quickly got his gun out and tried to shoot Terry. He lined up his shot and pulled the trigger quick enough, but it only jammed. He panicked, looking down at his gun and wondering what the fuck was going on. His gun never fucking jammed. He was about to head into the fight, when he heard Fiona scream.   
  
    ‘Abort! Abort!’ Fiona shouted. ‘Lip’s been fuckin’ shot! We gotta get out of here!’   
  
    Immediately, Carl and Debbie went and grabbed Lip, helping him out as Mandy and Iggy fought off anyone in their way. Mickey raced over to Ian and dragged him off of Terry, despite him having the upper-hand now. Terry immediately flew up after them, but Fiona shot him down. He was subdued long enough that they managed to chase after the rest of them and get in Mickey’s car. Mickey sped down the road, heading back to the Gallagher house. As they all raced in, glad to be in a house that was guarded by wards, Mickey only had one thought stuck in his mind.   
  
    Although he knew the last thing he should probably be doing as they carried an unconscious Lip in was argue with everyone, but he couldn’t help it. They had known — they had all known that Terry Milkovich was a demon now and that he was killing off Wiccans, which was the one thing he had hated about Mickey doing maybe more than him fucking guys. They had all known, and they had all sent him first into the chaos without any warning.   
  
    ‘You fuckin’ _knew_!’ Mickey shouted as they laid Lip down on the couch, Ian starting to tend to him. ‘Why didn’t you say anything?’   
  
    ‘Mickey, do we have to do this _now_?’ Fiona protested, watching as her brother drifted in and out of consciousness.   
  
    ‘Oh, I’m sorry, does the fact that it’s your brother lying there when it was probably supposed to be me bother you, Fiona?’ Mickey growled. He looked down at Ian, who seemed determined not to meet Mickey’s eyes, and scoffed, looking away.   
  
    ‘Fuck you, Mickey, we did what we had to do!’ Mandy snapped. ‘You were gone and Terry was on a rampage. He was killing innocent people in some kind of revenge plot against you, and the only thing he said he wanted was you and then he’d stop! So, yeah, we called you here, but we never wanted you to get hurt and it was to save people!’   
  
    Mickey almost felt like the breath had been knocked out of him. ‘I was _bait_? You didn’t call me because I knew Wiccan stuff…You called me to be fuckin’ _bait_ , for Terry no less, and you didn’t even have the decency to tell me? I would’ve fuckin’ helped anyway!’   
  
    ‘It’s not like we could’ve taken that chance!’ Debbie cried out. ‘People were _dying_ , Mickey!’   
  
    ‘Sending me out there with no fuckin’ knowledge of what’s going on could’ve killed _me_ , and do any of you give a shit?’ Mickey snapped, looking around the room at them all. ‘Did…Was not letting me sleep, not giving me time to eat, making sure I was high and relaxed…Was that to make me an easier target and more appealing to Terry? Is that why my fuckin’ gun didn’t go off?’   
  
    The silence was almost deafening and he knew that despite quitting hunting, despite running away, he’d always thought that these people were still his family. He’d thought that they still loved him and still wanted to keep him out of danger. The silence could only prove he was wrong. Tears threatening his eyes, all he could do was look to the one person he trusted the most.   
  
    ‘Ian?’ he croaked, voice breaking. ‘You didn’t know about any of this, right? You…you wouldn’t have fuckin’ done this to me…’   
  
    Ian let out a small exhale, licking his lips and squeezing his eyes shut for a moment before opening them and focusing them on where he was putting pressure to Lip’s wound. ‘We did what we had to do, Mick.’   
  
    Letting out a harsh laugh and pressing the heels of his hands to his eyes, he sniffed. ‘Fine. You want me to stop Terry so bad? I’ll do it.’   
  
    Without giving them a chance to stop him, Mickey picked up his duffle bag full of weapons and went out the door. He was vaguely aware of Ian coming after him, shouting about how he wasn’t ready, but he was already in his car and speeding back to Terry’s house.   
  
    Fuck the Gallaghers and his family. They wanted Terry gone so bad? Fine, Mickey’d make him disappear, even if he had to go down with him.   
  


* * *

Ian stormed back into the house, punching a wall in anger. ‘I always said we never should’ve done this to him! Now he’s gone off like an idiot to kill Terry _alone_.’   
  
    ‘Ian, we all agreed on the plan—’ Fiona tried to placate him.   
  
    ‘Oh, what plan?’ Ian shouted. ‘This wasn’t a plan. Let’s all face it — this was punishment for him quitting. I should’ve just…I should’ve just gone when he did. I wanted to. I should’ve.’   
  
    ‘Ian, what are you talking about?’ Mandy asked quietly, eyebrows furrowing in confusion.   
  
    ‘I don’t have time to explain the past to you — I’m going after Mickey.’ Ian grabbed his weapons bag and hurried out the door, ignoring the shouts after him as he, once again, chased after Mickey.   
  


* * *

_Ian had returned from his first hunt, covered in blood and adrenaline pounding through his veins, and immediately headed over to the Milkovich house to tell Mickey. Truth be told, Ian hadn’t enjoyed it as much as he thought he would. Sure, the structure and rules were good, and he always loved combat, but he wasn’t so sure if he had the same feeling of justice when he killed monster as his family did. He knew he was doing something right, but as he was doing it, he just felt mechanical numbness._  
  
 _He had entered the house to find it seemingly empty, which was unusual. One Milkovich was at least around most of the time. ‘Mickey?’_  
  
 _There was no answer, so he went around to Mickey’s room and found him packing up a bag. At Ian’s entrance, Mickey paused and looked up at Ian. He said nothing and continued to pack. Ian frowned as he approached him, noticing that his bag didn’t have the usual salt and guns in it. It had his clothes and books and money._  
  
 _Ian had no idea what was going on, but he decided to open with his news. ‘So…I finished my first hunt!’_  
  
 _‘Good for you,’ Mickey mumbled._  
  
 _Ian paused, not understanding why Mickey wasn’t more enthused. After his first hunt, Mickey was ranting and raving about his bravery, throwing his arms in the air and showing Ian exactly how he exorcised the ghost from the house. ‘It was a vamp…Lip let me stake him…What are you doing?’_  
  
 _‘What’s it look like, Gallagher?’ Mickey snapped. ‘I’m leavin’.’_  
  
 _‘Where are you going?’ Ian asked quietly, getting a bad feeling._  
  
 _‘Maybe Maine, maybe Indiana, who fuckin’ knows? Just far from here.’_  
  
 _‘Why?’_  
  
 _‘Because I’m_ done _, Ian!’ Mickey shouted, finally snapping as tears welled up in his eyes and he faced Ian. ‘I’m done with hunting. It’s stupid and reckless, and I don’t want to do it anymore. I’m gonna be normal, I’m gonna maybe get my fuckin’ GED, and I’m gonna live without the constant threat of when my next job’s gonna be. This life might be for you guys, but it’s not for me.’_  
  
 _‘It’s not for me, either,’ Ian mumbled, sitting down on the bed as it all came crashing down on him. The realisation that Mickey was leaving, the realisation of how much he needed Mickey — the realisation that he hated this life and everything it represented. ‘I don’t like it. Hunting. I just couldn’t stop thinking that that vamp was a human once, ya know? It was scary…’_  
  
 _‘Well, then you leave as well,’ Mickey sniffed. ‘…Come with me.’_  
  
 _Ian shook his head. ‘I can’t. Gotta stay here, where my family are. I have to do my job, even if I hate it.’_  
  
 _‘That’s bullshit, Gallagher!’ Mickey shouted. He grabbed Ian’s face in his hands. ‘Look, we can just leave. C’mon, let’s go. We don’t have to do this — you don’t have to do this. This is our family’s crusade, not ours.’_  
  
 _‘I can’t,’ Ian said almost apologetically. He reached out a hand as Mickey pulled away, wanting to pull him back in and force him to stay by his side. ‘But you also can’t leave…please?’_  
  
 _‘I have to,’ Mickey snapped, zipping up his bag and throwing it over his shoulder. ‘I can’t do this anymore.’_  
  
 _‘I can’t do this without you.’ Ian felt his heart aching in his chest. He knew he couldn’t handle this without Mickey with him. It was bad enough as it was. Without Mickey, what was the point?_  
  
 _‘Guess if you don’t come with me, you’re outta luck, then.’ Mickey started to head toward the door when Ian stopped him._  
  
 _‘Don’t…’_  
  
 _Mickey arched an eyebrow challengingly, wanting him to just come with him and wanting him to admit that he wanted to go with Mickey. ‘Don’t want?’_  
  
 _‘I love you,’ Ian finally said. ‘I love you. Don’t leave me. Please don’t go.’_  
  
 _Mickey took in a shaky breath, refusing to acknowledge how his heart filled with warmth with those words. He knew he felt the same, but if Ian didn’t come with him, what was the point? ‘Come with me.’_  
  
 _Ian’s eyes searched his for a moment, seeming to be looking for something, but then looking devastated not to find it. ‘No.’_  
  
 _‘Then I’m going.’ Mickey sniffed, touching his cheek slightly before patting it. ‘Later, Gallagher.’_  
  


* * *

_They all sat around the kitchen table, as they had for many years, in silence and shock at everything that had just went down. Terry wanted Mickey. He would only stop if they bring him Mickey as some kind of weird revenge plot._  
  
For being gay or practising Wicca? _Ian thought bitterly._  
  
 _This is why Mickey’s name had been whispered around the hunting community. Ian had been so sure he was back, even went searching in a few different covens to see if they knew anything, but he had only ended up witnessing the aftermath of the slaughter of those Wiccans, and following Terry and his clan back to their home base. When Mandy had found out, she and Lip had gone to fight him in a stupid, impulse decision. When they had returned with a few bruises and the news that he wanted Mickey, everyone was shocked and horrified. What scared Ian most was what they were horrified about: that Terry wanted to kill his son, or that they would have to give him to him. Ian really hoped they weren’t planning on doing the latter._  
  
 _‘Obviously we can’t give him Mickey…’ Ian frowned as no one responded, scanning their faces in disbelief as some of them looked to be questioning his statement. ‘We can’t fucking do that!’ He slammed his palm down on the table._  
  
 _‘Obviously we can’t do that,’ Debbie said quickly, and Ian almost sighed in relief. ‘…But we can make him think we’re giving him Mickey. Get him down here…Get him to go there…’_  
  
 _‘Use him as bait, you mean?’ Ian said flatly._  
  
 _‘Ian, it’s the only way,’ Fiona began._  
  
 _‘It’s not!’ Ian argued. ‘We haven’t even_ begun _to look at other ways, and you’re all just ready to throw in the towel and throw Mickey into the lion’s den? What’s the matter with you people?’_  
  
 _‘Yeah, I don’t know…I may be mad at Mick, but I’m not_ that _mad at him,’ Iggy agreed._  
  
 _‘We have to do this, Ian,’ Lip stated. ‘If we don’t, many more people could die! This isn’t your decision, anyway. It’s Mandy and Iggy’s.’_  
  
 _Everyone turned to Mandy, who had been quiet throughout the entire conversation. When she’d found out Terry had wanted Mickey, she had been horrified at the idea, but then as she thought about it…it wasn’t such a bad plan. Mickey was tough, he could take care of himself — what’s wrong with using him as a little bit of Terry bait if it could save lives?_  
  
 _She looked at Ian and saw his eyes pleading her not to do this, not to risk her brother like this. But Ian knew nothing about Terry Milkovich if he didn’t think they had to do everything they could to stop this. She took a deep breath before standing, announcing, ‘I’m gonna call him.’_  
  
 _Ian stared at Mandy with a look of betrayal, but he didn’t find himself stopping her. On some sick, selfish level, he was glad that he’d at least get to see Mickey again. Maybe, somehow, he could even protect him and get him out of this mess._  
  


* * *

‘You’re back…’ Terry began, standing when his son entered the room, followed by his clan. ‘Maybe you’re not as much of a pussy as I thought you were, son. Giving yourself up, you pole-smoking queer?’   
  
    ‘I have a question for you actually,’ Mickey said, knowing that in no way would this end well. The clan had taken his weapons away and the only one — the most important one — was attached to his ankle, which was hard to subtly reach. He was as good as dead, really. ‘What pisses you off more: that I love Wicca, or that I love Ian?’   
  
    Terry’s eyes flash black as he strides towards Mickey, shoving him back into his clan, who shove him back to Terry again. ‘The fuck you say to me, you little punk? You think you’re more than a piece of dirt on my goddamn shoe?’   
  
    ‘Fuck you!’ Mickey snarled, having no idea what else to do but maybe get Terry riled up enough that he could get punched in the stomach, convincingly double-over and grab his weapon.   
  
    Unfortunately for him, the only thing Terry did was punch him across the face before getting his clan to hold Mickey up by his arms. He could barely focus on anything but the copious amounts of pain running through him as Terry beat him black and blue. He continuously spat out blood as it gathered in his mouth, even as the vampires started to give him hungry looks. He knew they wouldn’t eat him, though. He knew he was Terry’s kill.   
  
    ‘You were never good enough, boy,’ Terry said as he laid into him, hateful words spat out between punches. ‘Not good enough for me, or your whore mother, not even good enough for that little faggot you fucked. You were a shitty hunter, too— haven’t gotten any better— an insult to the Milkovich name!’   
  
    Mickey thought that any moment would be the moment that he passed out or just flat-out died, but a gunshot stopped them all short.   
  
    ‘Get the fuck away from him!’ a familiar voice roared and Mickey blearily looked over to see Ian approaching like a bat out of hell.   
  
    He staked a few vampires as Terry started to drag Mickey away. The witches seemed to just decide that it wasn’t really worth it anymore and fled, so there was only Terry and Mickey left with Ian. Standing carefully from afar, pointing his gun at Terry, Ian stayed stock still with his eyes directly on Terry’s face.   
  
    ‘Let him go,’ Ian demanded. ‘Now!’   
  
    ‘Fine,’ Terry snarled, tossing Mickey to the floor like a sack of potatoes.   
  
    Mickey cried out in pain as his wrist snapped. Ian’s eyes flickered down to him for a moment to see that he was at least still alive before they looked back up at Terry’s, hard like stones. Terry merely laughed at his son before facing Ian.   
  
    ‘Fuckin’ limp wrist,’ Terry snickered. ‘Sounds ’bout right. What about you, faggot? Want me to give you a limp wrist, too?’   
  
    ‘Fuck you, Terry,’ Ian snarled, immediately taking a few steps forward, probably to end him.   
  
    Terry stepped forward too, clearly ready to start this fight. Before he could, though, Mickey sprung up to his feet, demon-killing knife at the ready. He grabbed Terry around the middle with the arm with the broken wrist, and swung upwards with the other, running Terry through the chin with his knife. A bright light flashed from within Terry’s skull, and he crackled and fizzed before dropping to the ground, dead.   
  
    Mickey scowled down at him, exhausted and hungry and just not in the mood at all. ‘Still got one wrist that works perfectly fine, you prick.’   
  
    Ian stared at Mickey with a shocked look. ‘What the fuck is that thing?’   
  
    ‘Demon-killing knife,’ Mickey said casually, despite the fact that his vision was swimming a little. ‘Only thing Svet left me.’   
  
    His words slurred at the end of his sentence and he found himself falling, hitting the wooden floor bluntly. The knife fell out of his hands and cluttered to the ground with him. He eyed it out the corner of his vision, sure that Ian would just take the knife and maybe go home with this exciting news. They had a demon-killing knife — that would change everything. Instead, he ran over to Mickey, checking him over gently.   
  
    ‘Fuck, Mick, I’m sorry,’ Ian sniffed slightly, touching his bloody face with his bloody hands. ‘I…I never wanted to…’   
  
    ‘Stop cryin’ like a baby, Gallagher,’ Mickey grumbled, eyes fluttering shut. ‘I’m fine…I’m just so tired…Fiona didn’t let me sleep…’   
  
    ‘You can’t go to sleep, fuck, Mickey!’ Ian sounded almost exasperated as he picked him up, along with the knife.   
  
    ‘I’ll do what I want,’ Mickey slurred, keeping his eyes shut and trying not to throw up as Ian exited the house.   
  
    The last things he heard was himself being put into the back of his car and being sped somewhere. Faintly, there was the sound of Ian yelling at him not to go to sleep, but he ignored that. Gallagher wasn’t gonna tell him what to do.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Not much, but this story needed closure.

**One Year Later**   
  
Mickey woke up to hear Ian in the kitchen, on the phone to someone. Letting out a groan, he realised it was only six am. _Damn Gallagher and his fuckin’ wake up times._   
  
    He rubbed at his eyes before sitting up and stretching, rolling out of bed in his tank and boxers to see who Ian was talking to. As he approached the kitchen, he heard the end of Ian’s parting sentence, ‘Alright, great news, Fi. Give my love to everyone.’   
  
    When Ian hung up, he put his hands on the kitchen counter and let out a long sigh, head hanging between his shoulders. It was moments like this that worried Mickey. Whenever he spoke to the Gallaghers, he always seemed like he was missing home, like he regretted leaving hunting behind to come be with Mickey. Usually, though, he didn’t seem this bad. Something must’ve happened.   
  
    ‘Something happen?’ Mickey spoke, before wrapping his arms around Ian’s middle. He always made sure to say something before touching Ian unexpectedly — hunter’s reactions and all that.   
  
    Ian sighed, rubbing his eyes free of tears. ‘Fuckin’ Carl got himself fucked up by a Wendigo. He’s fine, but Fi thought I ought’a know.’   
  
    Resting his forehead against Ian’s shoulder blade, he let out a deep, shaking breath. Although he was still a little pissed at being Terry bait, he loved the Gallaghers and his family and hated when they were in danger. He knew it really bothered Ian that he wasn’t there with them too. ‘He’s alright, though?’   
  
    ‘Yeah, he’s fine,’ Ian repeated. ‘Said he’s thinking of taking a small break to heal up.’   
  
    ‘Invite him up here to stay with us,’ Mickey offered.   
  
    Ian spun around in surprise, wrapping his arms around Mickey’s waist. ‘Really? Thought you were still pissed.’   
  
    ‘Am.’ Mickey shrugged. ‘But he’s family. Plus, it’d be good — we could take him to all the tourist traps. I know he’s always wanted to see a baseball game, but hasn’t had the time. We could do that?’   
  
    Green eyes searing into blue, Ian pressed his lips against Mickey’s in a grateful kiss. ‘I love you, you know that.’   
  
    ‘Damn right,’ Mickey laughed. ‘Love you too, hunter.’   
  
    ‘Always have been, guess we always will be — even when we’re not actively chasing down the bad guys.’   
  
    Mickey nodded, frowning thoughtfully. ‘Think we’ve been heroes enough for one life. Now’s our time, Gallagher.’   
  
    ‘Yeah.’ Ian grinned and nodded, grabbing Mickey’s hand to lead him back to bed so they could get some more sleep.   
  
    Even though they knew about the monsters under the bed, they now slept soundly — they were home. They were together.   
  
    They would always be protected. 

**Author's Note:**

> Still have a small, epilogue type thing to go, but this is the majority of the story! (I'd say like 95% of it) Hope you liked it so far!! 
> 
> (Guys, seriously, I'm not back yet! These fics are just lapses in control!!) 
> 
> (Also, these fics are never beta'd so any mistakes are all my own LOL)


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